‘Look at that little sparrow, Nelly. Does he not look hungry, poor little fellow? He wants to come in the room to you.’ ‘I dess he’s waiting for some day papa,’ said the child, looking out at the dingy London sparrow perched on the window ledge. ‘He looks so patient. I wonder if he’s hungry? I am, papa.’ The father looked at his little one with passionate tenderness. ‘Wait till mamma comes, my darling.’ ‘All right, papa; but I am _so_ hungry!—Oh, here is mamma. Doesn’t she look nice, papa, and so happy?’ When Eleanor entered the dingy room, her husband could not fail to notice the flush of hope and happiness on her face. He looked at her with expectation in his eyes. ‘Did you think mother was never coming, Nelly? and do you want your dinner, my child?’ ‘You do look nice, ma,’ said the child admiringly. ‘You look as if you had found some day.’ Eleanor looked inquiringly at her husband, for him to explain the little one’s meaning. ‘Nelly and I have been having a metaphysical discussion,’ he said with playful gravity. ‘We have been discussing the virtues of the future. She is wishing for that impossible some day that people always expect.’ ‘I don’t think she will be disappointed,’ said Mrs Seaton, with a fond little smile at her child. ‘I believe I have found it.—Edgar, I have been to see Mr Carver.’ ‘I supposed it would have come to that. And he, I suppose, has been poisoned by the sorceress, and refused to see you?’ ‘O no,’ said Eleanor playfully. ‘We had quite a long chat—in fact, he asked us all to dinner on Sunday.’ ‘Wonderful! And he gave you a lot of good advice on the virtues of economy, and his blessing at parting.’ ‘No,’ she said; ‘he must have forgotten that: he gave me this envelope for you with his compliments and best wishes.’ Edgar Seaton took the proffered envelope listlessly, and opened it with careless fingers. But as soon as he saw the shape of the inclosure, his expression changed to one of eagerness. ‘Why, it is a cheque!’ he exclaimed excitedly. ‘O no,’ said his wife laughingly; ‘it is only the blessing.’ ‘Well, it is a blessing in disguise,’ Seaton said, his voice trembling with emotion. ‘It is a cheque for twenty-five pounds.—Nelly, God has been very good to us to-day.’ ‘Yes, dear,’ said his wife simply, with tears in her eyes. Little Nelly looked from one to the other in puzzled suspense, scarcely knowing whether to laugh or cry. Even her childish instinct discerned the gravity of the situation. ‘Papa, has some day come? You look so happy.’ He caught her up in his arms and kissed her lovingly, and held her in one arm, while he passed the other round his wife. ‘Yes, darling. Your prayer has been answered. Some day—God be thanked—has come at last.’ For a moment no one spoke, for the hearts of husband and wife were full of quiet thankfulness. What a little it takes to make poor humanity happy, and fill up the cup of pleasure to the brim!